The Three Kinds of Nightmares
by roseusvortex
Summary: Dreams can easily become more terrifying than the darkest nightmare or sadder than the clearest dream. They are very painful. They make you weak.


**Wow, another fic for the Thor fandom. _I wonder who it is about?!_**

 **We all know this should renamed the 'Loki' fandom. Oh, I'm just kidding, haha. I read this wonderful multi-chap the other day and between that and seeing the movie quite recently, it just got me back into the fandom.**

 **Takes place somewhere after the second movie. Or it can be AU in the reader's mind. I made it pretty open.  
**

 **Enjoy. Please review!**

* * *

He _thinks_ it is a dream.

No, no, that's not quite right. He _knows_ it is a dream. Perhaps, a nightmare. Maybe a nightmare is a better way to look at it. He can deal with nightmares.

It's not a _bad_ nightmare, no. It was very... nostalgic, in a way.

...

They are children, once again, as they always are in his memories. Both are learning to handle a sword. Thor is a master at it, _as always_. Thor's arms are strong and hefty, he swings that stick around as though he is slaying the monsters right there in their little training room. A guard doubles over as the stick collides right in his stomach.

Thor is just a bit too excited.

The guard compliments him anyway, because that was a strong swing. The young prince is sure to become a great warrior, they say.

Loki stumbles through the lesson. The sword is too heavy for him, he falls over more than once, and doesn't feel like he will ever slay any monsters. He gets up, time and time again, but maybe his imagination isn't as good as Thor's, though. Because all he can feel is their little training room and the fact that his brother's accomplishments make him feel worse than he ever has before.

He gets better. Loki trains every day. Thor is overjoyed at the thought of fighting and heartily agrees to be his partner whenever Loki asks.

Slowly then, Loki becomes just as good at sword fighting as Thor is.

He wasn't a natural, but he learned.

* * *

He decides that it...wasn't a nightmare nor a dream. It was a memory. And nothing more.

Does it stop there? Oh no, nothing ever does. This time he has a nightmare.

...

They are fighting. It wasn't something silly like before, when they had no actual _problems._ This is dangerous fighting with the problems. This has anger, hate, loss, and betrayal wrapped into one punch and kick that hurts like _H_ _el._

Thor is there, pleading with him to stop this madness. All he can feel is the rage inside of him grow. Oh, _oh._ When Thor has a problem, people listen, but when he has a problem, they call this madness. Is that what this is? Madness?

Watch out, people. The Trickster _has a problem._ That's hilarious and makes him laugh. He has _problems?!_

He wants to mock Thor. He wants to hate Thor.

Especially when he calls him that dreaded name; _Brother._

Since when were they brothers? When had they shared the same name or destiny? Where had the time gone when they were both meant to be king? Loki doesn't know anymore and neither does he care. All he can tell is that the bitterness is growing and once again, like it always has been... Thor. Is. Not.

 _LISTENING._

It's only when he realizes that the reason Thor isn't saying anything is because he isn't there anymore. Is because no one is.

Loki is falling and no one is catching him.

 _Again._

* * *

Loki laughs.

Now, that is what he calls nightmare. Something that combines the memories and your fears into one perfect scene. It makes you want to scream, but he doesn't. That would make him too weak if he started screaming over something like that. When it feels so much more _real and terrifying_ in real life, when it happens to you.

...

This time, it's warmer, golden, and bright. The gold curtains near his bed flutter the slightest bit, despite there being no wind. The fire is crackling across the room. He knows this place. This is his room. When he was just a child, this is where he lived, this is where he and Thor would stay together when palace was just a bit too empty and scary for them as young children.

Loki is laying on his bed, feeling safe, warm, and protected. He hasn't felt that in a long time. It would take just the closing of his eyes to stay here forever. Oh, the memories to be lost in...

That's when it starts.

Just a small hum, that grows louder until it turns into soft words that dance around him. The voice is beautiful and his heart stops. He knows this. Loki turns to face the sound.

It's his mother.

Shining brighter than anything else in the room, she is smiling and singing to him. Softly luring him to sleep.

"Mother?"

His mother doesn't stop as she strokes his hair, holds him close, and sings the softest song that breaks his heart.

Loki, for once, doesn't know how to stop this. He can't close his eyes because he knows that if he does, he won't see her again.

"Stop singing," he cries, grabbing her hands in his small ones.

She doesn't, but closes her eyes instead.

"Stop... please...mother." It's too late anyway, he is already crying. He shouldn't be, after all, he is a god. He should be pushing away this dream like it's nothing. But... this time, he is a boy and this is his mother, singing him to sleep like she always had.

She won't do it again.

Which is why, he closes his eyes as well and doesn't say anything until the song is finished. He doesn't want the song to finish, but despite his wishes, he starts to fall asleep.

Frigga leans forward to press her lips against his forehead.

 _Beautiful, warm, and so... real._

"Sleep, my wonderful son..."

* * *

Dreams can easily become more terrifying than the darkest nightmare or sadder than the clearest memory. They are very painful. They make you _weak._

... and that's when Loki awakes from his sleep and _screams._


End file.
